


Looks Good Blurb: Watch, Tick, Boom

by NaughtySammyBoy



Series: Looks Good Verse [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Hair pulling because all the yes, Light choking because even more yes, Overstimulation, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Use of A Sex Toy, Vaginal Sex, Voyeur!Sam because yes please, don't try and tell me that Sam fuckin' Winchester wouldn't cuss like a sailor in bed, established Sam/Reader, fluffy stuff thrown in for good measure, overuse of the word fuck and its many variations, weird post-sex conversation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:15:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24180430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaughtySammyBoy/pseuds/NaughtySammyBoy
Summary: What's there to say besides you and Sam are finally together, and just can't stop having awesome sex? Did you really come here for anything less?No, because you're a girl with standards, and Sam Winchester's really, really, really good at rising above those standards every single friggin' time...
Relationships: Sam Winchester/Reader, Sam Winchester/You
Series: Looks Good Verse [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1745008
Comments: 8
Kudos: 78





	Looks Good Blurb: Watch, Tick, Boom

**Author's Note:**

> Sigh. This particular Sam/Reader storyline has taken over my life. Lucky you ;)

"Wanna watch you."  
  
Three words, spoken with so much heat, that your skin nearly melted clean off your bones. It's the three words that had you here; laid out on Sam's bed, knees drawn up with your legs spread wide, hand wrapped around a compact wand vibrator that's flicked up to the highest setting, the fat head of it pressed against your clit.  
  
Sam's laying parallel to you, still fully clothed and resting on his side, head propped up on a hand in such a casual way, eyes dark where they look down your body and bottom lip ruddy where he keeps biting into it. He's got his free hand wrapped around your knee that's closest to him, fingers tucked back into the crease where sweat had long since started to build. It's as far as his touch has gone, just wanting to see you work yourself over without his help.  
  
The only thing you're wearing is an oversized sleep shirt, pushed up and bunched above your heaving breasts. You've lost count of how many times you've made yourself come, stopped counting after the third. With Sam watching, you feel absolutely insatiable, like you could keep at it for hours if he wanted you to—probably have, haven't looked a clock recently—even with your clit and the surrounding areas the vibrator touched starting to go a little numb to sensation. You just keep rocking your hips, rolling into back to back orgasms that have turned into the kind that simply throb and pulse like waves against a sea bottom.  
  
"Look at you," Sam husks, and you can't help but startle a bit at the sound of his voice—he's been utterly silent up until now, just observing, the only sounds to be heard having been you and the constant, steady buzzing of the vibe between your legs.  
  
You drag your lids up, weighed down heavy with pleasure, and turn your head to meet his eyes. He's looking at you like he always does—gaze saturated with overwhelming love and unwavering devotion, with the underlying tone of blistering desire that scorches hot in the hazel of his eyes.  
  
You whimper. It's a pathetic little sound. A bonafied _squeak_.  
  
"Look at you, baby," he repeats, leaning in so you're brow-to-brow. The hand on your knee moves along the inside of your thigh and sweeps up at the last possible second, bypassing your spasming cunt to rest the weight of it across your lower belly where it's trembling with pleasure. "So fucking gorgeous like this."  
  
"Sam," you breathe, hand shaking between your legs where you're white-knuckling the vibrator, so close to another release. Sam hums, gets the hand on your belly down to snatch the toy away and flick it off, tossing it to the mattress.  
  
"Want me inside you?" He asks, big hand now wrapping around your hip and pivoting you up. He slides in behind you, let's you rest your weight against him as you nod in agreement, tired from your own work, gets his free arm under your neck. He doesn't bother with his clothes, just gets his belt undone and works the button of his jeans loose and tugs down the zipper, stuffs his hand into the vee of the opening and pushes his boxers down just enough that his cock, hard and pulsing and weepy at the tip, can spring free.  
  
"That's it," he heaves a sigh of relief as he pushes himself into you from behind, and you whine at the feeling of him finally stretching you out. " _God_. You're so fuckin' wet right now, baby. You feel how wet you are around my cock? Fuck. I can _hear_ it."  
  
"Yeah," you keen, the squelchy slurp of your pussy sucking on his cock so noisy and obscene, that your face warms with it. You tip your head back, ear sliding against his warm mouth, toes swirling in the rumpled sheets behind him where you've thrown your leg back over his to open yourself up wider.  
  
Every sensation feels heightened. The rough denim and soft flannel sliding against your sweat-glistened skin; his stubbled chin scratching deliciously at that particularly sensitive spot just under your ear, lips catching at the shell in a dry cling; his hand, big and heavy and calloused, roaming up the arch of your naked torso, tripping over the curves, dips, swells, and peaks of you; his _cock_ —you could wax so much poetry about the way he feels inside you, the way he pounds the girthy length into your walls that just can't seem to stop rippling around him.  
  
"m'so fuckin' close already," Sam slurs in your ear, getting his hand up around your throat, thumb pressing over the bolt of your jaw. "Think you got one more in ya?"  
  
You huff a laugh, the sound melting into a moan. "For you?" Tilting your head, you slot your mouth with his, whispering against his lips, " _Always_."  
  
Without looking, you slide your hand over the sheets, searching, wrapping your fingers around the vibrator once you finally find it. With it on a medium setting this time, you press it to the pulsing throb of your clit, gasping sharply, back bowing away from Sam's chest.  
  
"Oh, _shit_ ," he hisses out through gritted teeth, bucking just a bit harsher into the quivering clutch of you, and you know he can feel it, the vibrations radiating out and melting down into your walls where he's nestled. "That's a fuckin' treat if I ever felt one," he murmurs, fingers tightening just a bit around your throat, cutting off just enough oxygen that your moans are high-pitched and a little wheezy, making you go lightheaded as heat simmers in your belly, going gooey between your hips.  
  
Now that's Sam inside you, the release that's building seems a little more intense than all the others, a little like a ticking time bomb. Every snap of his hips, every stretch of his cock pushing back inside, every press of his fingers curled around your neck, every word he spills into your ear—all working together to bring it to detonation.  
  
A steady, mindless train of _yes, yes, yes_ pours out of your mouth, body trembling in various places from the sensation overload. It's too much, but too good to stop, leaves you in a headspace that's makes everything but Sam and the way he feels all around you disappear into the back recesses of your mind.  
  
"Fuck, baby," Sam whispers, "You're squeezin' my cock so good. Gonna come hard for me, aren't you. _Yeah_. God, I fuckin' _know_ you are."  
  
You can't even reply with real words, can only nod frantically and cry out and writhe against him. _Tick. Tick. Tick_. It's drawing closer. It seems miles away but feels like it's right there all at the same time. God, you can't even think straight. Your heart's beating like a drum behind your ribs, loud in your ears. _Tick. Tick. Tick_. Everything narrows down to the space between your legs, where you're spread open wide around Sam's throbbing cock and where the vibe doesn't falter in its buzz against your poor, defenseless clit.  
  
_Boom_.  
  
Sobbing loudly, your body tries to skitter away from Sam's all on its own—but he's always been quicker than you. The hand wrapped around your throat flies down to your belly, fingers splaying and denting the soft flesh as he drags you back into place and pounds into the spasming clutch of your pussy. The arm under your neck bands around your chest, further trapping you and forcing you to just take it, forces you to lay there and get fucking _wrecked_ in the best way imaginable.  
  
"Hell _yes_ ," Sam moans, open and guttural, swiftly dodging your head when you fling it back in pleasure so he doesn't end up with a bloody nose. He'd have a hell of time explaining _that_ one to his brother.  
  
He buries his face in your neck, now elongated by the way you've tucked your head back into his shoulder, aggravating the thin, sensitive skin there with his scratchy chin as he sucks a mark or two into place. He continues to fuck himself into you, fast and noisy. You're so fucking lost in your release, body shaking and jerking so wildly that Sam would be concerned if he didn't already know you like the back of his hand.  
  
"That's my girl," he praises, voice raspy and pleasure-deep as he works you through it—you'd probably punch him square in the mouth if he stopped right now. "Gonna come inside that tight little pussy of yours," he grinds out, wrapping himself around you tighter and snapping his hips rougher, nearing his own end. "Gonna fill you the fuck up with my cum, baby. God, I fucking _love_ comin' inside you, love the way it leaks out of your sweet, little, fucked-out cunt. _Huh!"_  
  
You flicked off the vibe and toss it to the side, deliriously high off fresh dopamine, reigning in just enough wherewithal to say in a whimpery, breathy tone, "Give it to me, Sam. C'mon, baby, come for me, let me feel it. Want it so fuckin' much." You turn your head, get your mouth against his jaw and roll your hips down to meet him thrust for thrust, throwing a hand up to tangle it in his hair and pull just the way you know he likes.  
  
Sam cries out, body faltering in its rhythm, going sloppy and hurried as he spills deep inside, rocking into you a few more times to milk himself completely. You help by flexing your walls around him repeatedly, which makes him drag his blunt nails across your lower belly and howl in ecstacy.  
  
Time slows down, then, and Sam's breathing uneven and humid in your ear, body gone slack behind yours and you tilt your head to search for him. The frenzied need to get there is gone, and in its wake is the sweet press of Sam's lips against yours, licking lanquidly into each other's mouths, weary and rubber-limbed and so utterly, ridiculously satisfied that neither of you can help but laugh breathlessly into the kiss.  
  
"Thought you said you were just gonna watch," you whisper with an ear-to-ear grin, afraid that if you talk too loud, the moment will evaporate away and it'll all have been just some spectacular wet-dream.  
  
Part of you _still_ can't fully believe that you get to have him in this way.  
  
Sam chuckles, nose nuzzling yours, fingers sweeping hair out of your face where it's gone rogue. "I know," he shrugs lazily, pressing another sickly-sugary kiss to your mouth. "My cock took over, I swear. My brain had no say in what just took place."  
  
"Poor Brain," you tease with a faux-pout, giggling when Sam rolls his eyes and bites back a smile. "Can't be too mad at Cock, though," you rationalize, fully aware that this whole exchange makes zero sense, "He _did_ the damn thing. I don't think I've ever come that hard before in my life."  
  
Sam dissolves into laughter, chest rumbling against your back, and you join him, the two of you obviously come-stupid.  
  
It's nice, though, enjoying little moments like this with Sam. _Your_ Sam. _Forever_ your Sam now. It's intimacy like you've never experienced with anyone else before. Sweet, comfortable, love-heavy intimacy that makes your belly go all warm and butterfly-filled.  
  
It's never been just sex with him—even the first time was emotionally intense—and sure, y'all fuck like it could be the last time every time, but with Sam, it always feels like the first time, always new and exciting and life-changing.  
  
_Okay_ , you think, _I'm definitely come-drunk_.  
  
You giggle and Sam shakes his head, sliding his grinning mouth along the slope of your jaw, nipping playfully at your skin.  
  
"Be right back," he eventually husks, reaching over to grab the abandoned vibrator and dragging himself away from you, making you gasp as his cock pops free and his cum starts drizzling out of you.  
  
Sighing at the feeling, you roll over onto your back and watch through heavy-lidded eyes as Sam kicks out of his jeans, moving to stand at the sink set-up nearby. He rinses off the vibe and sets it aside, then grabs two washcloths to wet under the tap, his long, dexterous fingers curling and twisting to ring out any excess water.  
  
You let your eyes close on their own accord, the continued sound of Sam rustling about nearly lulling you to sleep.  
  
"Resting up for a second round?" He questions, knee sinking down into the mattress, and you drag your lids back up to see he's only wearing boxers now. All that tan, hunter-worn skin makes you grin like an idiot; your boyfriend really is the most magnificent creature you've ever laid eyes on.  
  
"In your fuckin' dreams, Winchester," you answer, dragging your knees up to spread your legs and gasping weakly when he gently, _ever so gently_ , swipes the cool, damp cloth over your tender, sensitive flesh to clean up the mess he's made of you. "You're absolutely _insatiable_. My poor pussy needs a well deserved _break_. I think you and Cock may have actually broken her this time."  
  
Sam breathes a laugh out of his nose. "Can't say either of us is too terribly sorry about it," he grins smugly, twisting at the waist to toss the cloth the distance to the sink's basin and climbing into bed beside you. He politely drags the sleep shirt still gathered up under your arms down your chest, helps cover you up before you roll towards him and snuggle into his embrace.  
  
"Night, baby," you murmur, bone-tired and rubbing your cheek against the soft hair between his pecs like a cat seeking affection.  
  
"Night," Sam chuckles, magically fashioning a thin blanket to drape over the two of you before sinking a hand into your hair to lightly scratch over your scalp.  
  
"Goodnight to you, too, Cock."  
  
Sam's responding laugh is noisy, beautiful, and downright contagious.

**Author's Note:**

> *dies**but then is instantly resurrected bc this is supernatural and no one ever really stays dead in supernatural**thinks about jo & ellen and is now bitter**writes more sam smut to cheer self up* 
> 
> Hope y'all enjoyed! Leave a comment of a ridiculous post-sex conversation you've had. This particular conversation between Sam and reader was inspired by one of my very own. You're welcome 😏


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